


Carved into the Light

by santa_luna



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gavin and Tina gay solidarity, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, M/M, Mechanic Gavin Reed, Mutual Pining, RK900 is called Richard, Racecar Driver RK900, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings, honestly everyone is bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 12:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20948180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santa_luna/pseuds/santa_luna
Summary: “Do you race?”Gavin’s heart stutters and he tries desperately not to let it show. He presses his lips together, rolling every possible reply around on his tongue, settling on something safe, something vague: “Doyou?”The android laughs, light and breathy; it’s fascinating and unsettling at the same time, lasting only seconds before the steely expression takes his face again. “I’ve been known to dabble,” he replies, raising an eyebrow challengingly. “Why don’t we race then? If I win, you’ll agree to at least listen to my proposal.”“Alright, fine.”...OR, Gavin finds himself working for—and to his annoyance,fallingfor—Cyberlife's RK900 as crew chief for the Detroit Grand Prix, an event that may hold secrets Gavin has spent years trying to leave in his rear-view.





	Carved into the Light

**Author's Note:**

> I should preface with a big ol’ honest: I know very little about how competitive racing works and even less about actual cars, LOL. Yet, here I am, writing a racing AU that no one has asked for _(nervous laughter)_. I’ve taken a LOT of liberties about racing circuits and car mechanics but I suppose since this is all imaginary anyway, in the end it doesn’t matter. What does matter, is the journey of personal growth Gavin makes... and how often I can make him sweat because of the heat of the Detroit summer and/or the heat of Richard’s gaze.
> 
> _The title is from the song The Emotion by Borns._

Though the sun had set hours ago the humidity remains, hanging thick in the air and sticking to skin; it’s made worse by the heat emanating almost visibly from dozens of idle engines. Music pounds out in waves into the air of an abandoned lot on the northeastern edge of the city. Racers and constructors show off modified cars like prized livestock at a county fair while runners collect hushed bets for the races soon to follow.

Tina Chen—her everyday green coveralls forgone for a low cut Henley and curve-hugging jeans—flits around exchanging wagers of her own and slipping business cards into palms and pockets.

Her partner, Gavin Reed, sits atop the hood of his pickup truck some yards away from the lights and the noise but still close enough that he can feel the bass thrumming through the metal underneath him. The temperature has forced Gavin to strip off the top half of his coveralls, tying it around his waist in an attempt to save his well-worn _IndyCar Series_ t-shirt from getting sweat-soaked. He grumbles—not for the first time—about being dragged out into the night only to be told to stay behind.

A group of racers walk Tina close to his edge of the lot. Gavin fails to tamp down his feelings of desire as his gaze slides over their strong cut jaws, thick arms, and toned chests. He stays put though, rolling an unlit cigarette between his lips, fingers fidgeting subconsciously with the lighter in his pocket.

Tina waves them off, throwing a tinkling laugh and a smile over her shoulder that dies the moment they’re far enough away. She pulls up her thick black hair and fans out a few of the business cards to cool herself down.

“You’re getting more dick than me, Chen, and you don’t even like dick,” Gavin laughs as she wanders the rest of the way over.

Gavin fishes a used rag out of his pocket and wipes the sweat off his brow; it adds more grime to his already motor oil-stained face from a day of work underneath carriages and hoods but seeing as he’s been stuck out here all night—not working, not flirting, not doing anything really—he couldn’t care less. He tosses the rag at Tina who easily side-steps it.

She looks up at him, bored, “Why don’t you wipe off that shithole you call a mouth while you’re at it, Reed.”

Gavin whistles low, “Harsh dig.”

Tina shrugs, “I’m not sorry. You’re supposed to be here for moral support but you’re not doing a very good job.”

“Just saying, you could ask me for help.”

_“Just saying,”_ she rebuts, “if by 'help' you mean: getting arrested for spilling illegalities to some undercover cop that you're getting frisky with? Then I think I'm good without."

Gavin’s ears burn, “That only happened once.”

“And once is already one too many," Tina says pointedly as she tosses her makeshift fan into the wind. Gavin catches a glimpse of their logo: _‘C.a.R. Automotive: Premium Repair & Service Specialists’_, and then the cards flutter uselessly to the ground barely a foot from her. She sighs, long and defeated, kicking gravel over them before climbing up onto the hood next to Gavin.

He regards her as she looks out into the distance; he notes her furrowed brow, the tense line of her shoulders, and the shadow that she carries in her angled eyes. It’s not at all an unfamiliar look. He digs out the lighter from his pocket and lights the end of the cigarette that he’s been fiddling with, handing it over to Tina. She accepts it with a weak smile, taking a long drag and then blowing smoke into the warm breeze.

Gavin doesn’t light one for himself.

Tina sighs through another drag, “Tonight could still turn around. We need a lot to make up for...”

Gavin should be listening, he really should. He knows where they stand: that they've been losing clients, that the disrepair of the shop eats away the little they do make, that nights like this may be the only way to dig them out of the hole that keeps threatening to swallow what they've built together.

This is important.

But instead, _black leather_ steals Gavin's attention.

Tina’s voice falls away and all Gavin can focus on is tall and lean, a man with pale skin standing in stark contrast to his impossibly all-black outfit. Gavin feels breathless at the thought of being smothered in all those layers and then being smothered by something else entirely. The man’s eyes shift and catch Gavin’s own with a gaze so piercing, even from this distance, that it leaves Gavin’s mouth dry.

It isn’t until Tina bumps his shoulder that his focus comes back to their edge of the lot and he realizes that she’s been waiting for him to respond.

Gavin can’t even pretend to know what she's asked him, “Uh…”

Tina rolls her eyes, sliding down the hood of the truck, “I swear you’re not even listening to me half the time I talk to you.”

“I listen.”

“Half the time, sure. That’s not good enough, especially when you zone out on me to check out some ass.”

Gavin tries to ignore the too-familiar guilt clawing at his insides and bites back jokingly, "Can you blame me, Chen? I'm not the one who's already found an ass to tap for the rest of my life.”

"That's because you're mean,” she punctuates by stomping her burned down cigarette into the gravel. “And I'd appreciate it if you didn't refer to my wife as just an ‘ass to tap’.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” Gavin’s being a dick, he knows it, knows how easy it is to choose to do so over openness or vulnerability, even with someone he’s known for so many years. Tina doesn’t tear into him this time though, she just stays quiet, setting her jaw, which is impossibly more punishing than any insult. His insides are being eaten away at again so, despite being tense all over, he makes an attempt at the more difficult choice. He extends a leg out, kicking the air a little in front of Tina with the toe of his boot to catch her attention. She looks up at him.

Gavin smiles, small but earnest, “We’re partners, Tina. Let me help you.”

She sighs heavily but then after a moment she couples it with a smile to match his, “You do enough, Gavin. It’s fine.”

Gavin is relieved when she doesn’t push for anything more than that. It feels like forgiveness so he lets the tension and guilt fade away—for now.

“So,” Tina pokes at his boot. “Who’s ass were you checking out while I was trying to talk shop?”

Gavin blushes, nodding out into the crowd, “Tall, walking GQ ad.”

Tina turns to search, humming a moment before she spots him. “Oh, the android?”

“Android?” Gavin starts, straightening up to look out again. He finds him, nodding as a racer talks animatedly to him. Gavin waits, and _there!_ As he turns, he catches the little blue ring of light on the man’s—_the android’s_—temple. That changes things a bit.

Tina hums again, “Yeah, I think he’s—”

“What’s an android doing here?” Gavin interrupts, curiously watching as the racer then starts pointing in their direction.

“What I was trying to say is: he’s—”

“He’s coming this way.”

They fall quiet as the android closes the distance to the edge of the lot, drawing spectators with him. He stops a few feet short of them and the pickup truck, expression blank when it settles on Gavin. He holds up one of their business cards between two fingers, “Gavin Reed?”

“Who’s asking?”

“CyberLife would like to offer you a job.”

Gavin bristles, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. He takes a long moment before replying cooly, “No thanks, I don’t tune up walking refrigerators.”

This earns a few chortles from the crowd now collecting around them, while the android himself pauses, the light on his temple spinning bright yellow for a moment before it’s back to its cool blue.

Tina turns to Gavin with a sharp, admonishing look before addressing the android, “What’s the job?”

The android doesn’t take his eyes off Gavin. The heat feels even more stifling somehow, sweat building up where the hairs rise on the back of his neck. Between his scrutiny and their attentive audience, he's now self-conscious about the grimy state of his face and hands.

“I hear you’re a rather adept mechanic,” the android claims. “And also available.”

Gavin laughs mockingly, a full-toothy grin on show, “You propositioning me, tin-can?”

Not even a beat passes as he cuts back, “No thanks, I don’t proposition walking assholes.”

Tina yelps loudly before she can clamp a hand over her surprised smile, and several others in the crowd have the same amused reaction. Gavin grinds his teeth and is deeply grateful for how the late hour and low light hide the way his ears go pink.

A hint of a smirk breaks through on the android’s face but it’s gone as quickly as it had appeared. He continues, “By ‘available’, I mean that you’ve been rather light on business lately. I thought that perhaps we could help each other.”

Gavin scoffs, “I don’t need any help from a talking toaster.”

“Don’t you want to know what the job is before you so hastily dismiss it?”

“Don’t really care. Like I said: I’m not interested.”

“Humans are so simple-minded,” the android comments evenly. He's quiet for a beat, considering, and then, “Do you drive?”

“Everyone here can drive, dipshit.”

Another beat. The light on his temple glows gold yet again. The android tilts his head when he asks, “Do you race?”

Gavin’s heart stutters and he tries desperately not to let it show. He presses his lips together, rolling every possible reply around on his tongue, settling on something safe, something vague: “Do _you?_”

The android laughs, light and breathy; it’s fascinating and unsettling at the same time, lasting only seconds before the steely expression takes his face again. “I’ve been known to dabble,” he replies, raising an eyebrow challengingly. “Why don’t we race then? If I win, you’ll agree to at least listen to my proposal.”

There’s an immediate buzz that rises as the crowd around them start to murmur in excitement. Gavin blinks a few times. It feels like he's being egged on, like he's being dared to waste his time. If he says 'no' maybe the android will just leave and Gavin can go back to his night. Although, for one it could be worth it to wipe that smug look off the tin-can's face, and two, he's been bored to death for hours.

“Alright, fine,” Gavin concedes, “but if I win, I want money.”

“Done,” the android nods and then begins to walk away towards the middle of the lot, their audience trailing behind.

“Don’t you wanna know how much money I’m asking for?” Gavin asks after him, jogging to keep up with his long strides.

“_Don’t really care_,” he mocks Gavin’s earlier sentiment as they reach the mass of cars. “Whatever it is I’m sure will be petty change in comparison to what you could be making working for us.” He inspects a couple of cars before handing what looks to be a crisp stack of cash to the driver of a modified cobalt blue Pagani. He pointedly glances back at Gavin.

Before Tina can try to change his mind, Gavin calls on one of their favours, securing what he knows is a more powerful red Ferrari. He lines it up on the road adjacent to the lot. The painted chalk line is still fresh—the first race of the night. The android soon follows suit.

Tina knocks on Gavin’s window and he lowers it enough for her to lean in. On the sidelines he can hear bets being thrown around; his pride swells when he catches plenty of wagers made for him.

“Gavin,” she starts hesitantly. “The job might not be a bad idea. It’ll be steady money, that’s something we could definitely get used to.”

Gavin raises an eyebrow at her, “You giving up on us?”

She rolls her eyes, “Obviously that’s not what I mean.”

“Look, I could drive circles around Astro Boy drunk. We’re about to make a lot of money, right now.”

Tina seems like she has more she wants to say but she shakes her head and keeps it to herself. She backs away from the car, her hands up in concession, “Alright, Reed. Good luck.”

Gavin winks at her as he revs his engine. “Place your bets, Chen.”

A dark-skinned drag queen steps out into the road with a checkered flag and a bullhorn. She purses her deep red lips and announces, “Okay boys, one lap back to start. Cats want their carriages back, so try to keep it clean.”

From the Pagani, the android leans over and raises his voice to be heard over their rumbling engines, "Speaking of 'clean', you seem to have missed quite a lot of motor oil on your face."

Gavin's blood boils as he rolls his window up, and then, even though the android can’t see him through the tinted glass, he flips him off. He resists glancing at himself in the mirror out of sheer spite alone.

The drag queen lifts the checkered flag into the air, and Gavin is suddenly mesmerized by the way it billows…

_Three._

His focus goes hazy. Time seems to slow and Gavin can hear his heart thumping in the space around him, like echoing beats of a timpani drum…

_Two._

He blinks over and over but the road ahead won’t stop swaying. There’s a ringing in his ears, smoke stinging his eyes, and then the taste of amber in his mouth, something that burns his throat on the way down…

_One._

He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles go white…

The flag goes down, and Gavin is off. The world crashes back into focus as his foot hits the gas, accelerating as quickly as possible up to two-hundred. On his left, the android keeps just a little under pace.

As they speed further and further from the lot, darkness envelops the road. Gavin flicks on his high-beams and sees the android do the same, nearly blinded by the flash of them in his side-mirror. He ignores the spots in his vision and propels the car to two-twenty.

The first turn comes up and Gavin oversteers, back wheels spitting up dust and dirt as he tenses his arms to correct. He carefully accelerates the moment he exits the drift before punching it to regain momentum up to two-forty. Lights illuminate falling dust particles before the android breaks through the cloud seconds behind him.

Gavin grins widely as he maintains a comfortable lead through the next stretch; adapting from his first mistake, each following turn is executed to near-perfection. Pleased with the growing distance between himself and his competitor—the android's car only two dots of light in the distance—he allows himself to relax, laughing as he pulls back to two-hundred.

As the lot comes back into view, Gavin catches the next turn more leisurely, wondering how many zeroes he could get away with requesting for this ridiculously easy win.

Then, a flare in his right-view mirror and the android is there as if apparated out of thin air. He’s drifting faster than Gavin is and somehow keeping steadier control at the same time, threading the car in between Gavin and the turn. The back bumper of his Pagani clips the front of Gavin’s Ferrari as he overtakes him. It’s only the barest of brushes but at their speed, it's enough to send Gavin spinning out.

Gavin instantly shifts into neutral and steers into the skid. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, the screech of rubber tires pierces through a sea of thunder. He clenches the wheel until his knuckles go white once more...

The car finally slows and then stops. Gavin eases his hold on the wheel, sagging into the seat. When the dust settles, the android’s car is nowhere to be seen.

_Shit._

He takes the Ferrari at a shameful sixty the remaining stretch to the lot and across the chalk line where the android is already waiting, leaning casually against the Pagani. He’s talking to Tina who notices Gavin’s approach, leading them over to the car. Gavin parks but he doesn’t get out.

After a minute, the android knocks on the window. Gavin glares at his face through the tinted glass: cheekbones to high heaven, skin smooth. _Fucking androids._ He knocks again and the slightest smile touches his plush lips, “Coming out anytime soon?”

Gavin rolls the window down and tries not to punch him in the teeth, “I do that almost every day.”

“Good for you.” The android straightens his posture and the smile remains, playful almost; it makes something bubble in Gavin’s belly and to his death, he'd argue that it's hatred. “I wanted to say that you raced admirably but I’ll admit that I’m quite disappointed.”

“Could say the same to you,” Gavin retorts through gritted teeth. He makes eye contact with Tina who looks like she’s trying desperately to fight back laughter. He narrows his eyes at her in the hopes it will curdle her from the inside. She giggles instead.

“I’ll have someone come by your shop tomorrow with the details of the job,” the android tells him as he hands Gavin a business card of his own.

Gavin glowers up at him, making no move to reach for it. The android, seemingly unbothered, places the card onto the windshield.

“I do hope your mechanical skills are more impressive than your driving,” he says with a couple of pats to the roof of the dusty Ferrari. “Goodnight, Gavin Reed.”

The android walks away and disappears into the crowd.

“_Prick_...” Gavin mutters.

Tina leans in through the window with a shit-eating grin, “Yes, you are.”

Gavin scowls, “I’m talking about that plastic asshole. Who does this guy think he is?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Tina grabs the business card off of the windshield and practically shoves it in between Gavin’s eyes. He has to lean back to bring it into focus. Printed on black and white cardstock: _'RACER RK900 in association with CYBERLIFE'._

“He’s CyberLife’s racing champion,” Tina explains. “Detroit Grand Prix winner two years running. _IndyCar, NASCAR, Drift_, you name it. He’s the best driver in the damn country right now.”

Gavin lets the words sink in and his entire face warms in anger and embarrassment. He'd rather drink coolant than admit it, but now he does feel like a prick.

“And you tried to race against him,” Tina giggles again, there’s practically tears in her eyes with how much she’s enjoying this.

The drag queen from the start of the race approaches them, handing Tina a stack of slips, “Your winnings, honey.”

Gavin’s jaw drops in disbelief, “What the hell, Chen, you bet _against_ me?”

“I tried to tell you,” she says as she starts counting the slips. “Though you were right, Reed. We did make a lot of money tonight.”

Gavin drops his head against the wheel and rolls the window back up, leaving Tina’s pure fucking delight at his expense muffled by the glass.

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Tina's shop's name stands for _"Chen and Reed Auto"_, which yes, means it is called _"CAR AUTO"_, because they're ridiculous and because they can.
> 
> _PPS. Gosh, formatting is a nightmare._


End file.
